


Comestibles

by dracox_serdriel



Series: Her Dark Works [7]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe, Betrayal, Character Death, Couple Fight, Dark Castle, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Graphic Description, Internal Conflict, Kidnapping, Lost Boys, Maritime Kingdom, Missing Children, Original character with canon character name - Graham, Original character with canon character name - Walsh, Past losses, Peter Pan is the Pied Piper, Portals to other Realms, Regret, Romance, Sherwood Forest, Smut, The Enchanted Forest, The Jolly Roger, stolen children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-04 21:45:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5349674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracox_serdriel/pseuds/dracox_serdriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma Swan, the Dark One, seeks passage to a Land without Magic, where she can live out an ordinary human life with her banished family members. Captain Killian Jones, his moniker now discarded, aids her despite the sorry fact that she may never reciprocate his feelings. </p><p><strong>Her Dark Works</strong> takes place in an alternate universe where Emma Swan was born and raised in the Enchanted Forest. One day, things go horribly wrong, and she abandons her birthright and throne to seek revenge on the Dark One. What happens when a woman born to be the Savior of the Realm joins forces with the Vengeful Pirate of Neverland?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hand over Fist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma adjusts to life as the Dark One and tries to alleviate Killian's melancholy.

Killian had never considered the possibility of having his hand back again. The first few weeks after his battle with the Crocodile, he dreamt of a way for Milah to return to him but never his hand. The hook gave him a moniker to match the drastic shift in his demeanor, and when he did begin to find release in whatever willing ladies were at port, he made due with one hand. Over the years, he became quite proficient.

The moment Emma wrapped her hands around his wrist, he felt it. It wasn't as if she was reattaching some old, discarded member of his body, but rather as if she was rewinding time, undoing the Crocodile's work. When she was done, there wasn't even a scar.

He wanted to pull her close and tell her he loved her, that he'd always love her, that his service to her was dictated not by his honor nor his debt to her but by his heart. But then he looked into her eyes and saw something there that stopped him.

Desire, yes, but more than anything else, lust. 

Since she undid the Wicked Witch's curse earlier that day, she had seemed different to him. At first he thought she was overjoyed for having used dark magic to do good, being the Savior despite her situation. All through dinner she was wound up, even giddy by Swan standards, but it wasn't until now that he understood what was happening to her.

Dark magic intoxicated her, lowered her inhibitions, and gave her the will not just to desire, but to lust. It cast a pall over her fine features and eclipsed the love - and now that it was gone, there was no mistaking that it had, in fact, been there - that once shone in her eyes.

He couldn't say the words when Emma was this far gone, but he could show her.

And he did. He took his time exploring her body with his left hand, stroking her thighs, messaging her feet, rubbing his thumb over her hip bone as she bucked up for more friction, hardening her nipples, tracing her collarbone, cupping her cheek.

She made a noise somewhere between a growl and a moan, one hand digging into his scalp as she kissed him, the other clawing at his chest.

"Killian," she said. "Please, Killian."

Her words sounded like a begging plea, but the tone in her voice made it quite clear that she wasn't asking.

* * *

His touch, his kiss, his breath... Emma was ready to resort to tying the man down with magic and having her way with him. She wasn't in control of herself, she could feel it, and if he teased her anymore that thin thread of patience would snap.

Before she could imagine him on his back, naked and keening as she rode him, he chased the thoughts out of her head with a kiss. In the next moment, he yanked her from the wall, stepping aside so she nearly crashed into the bed. She put out her hands and caught herself on the corner of the bed.

Hook - no, _Killian_ \- came up behind her, pushing her forward with his body as one hand bunched her skirt up around her and the other covered the small of her back. She let him guide her so she was bent over the bed with most of her red dress pinned under her.

When he pressed against her, her bare legs felt the cool leather of his pants, and her hands fisted the bed in anger as much as desire. Why was he still dressed?

As if to answer her question, his right hand came across her lower back, just above her hips, and held her in place as his left hand traced her inner thighs up to her soaked panties. She literally mewed at the touch of his fingers, and he pulled down her underwear with one hard tug. She stepped out of them as his left went to work, stroking through her wet folds and tapping her clit.

She groaned at as the friction built, and she curled her hips back toward him. It clearly had the desired result, as his right hand disappeared from her back, and she heard the distinct scuffle of rapid and skillful unlacing.

When Hook - no, _Killian_ \- closed in on her again, skin touched skin. The bristle of his leg hair, the glide of his hands, over her thighs and ass before they settled on her hips. His left hand returned to its ministrations on her soaking-wet center, rubbing her clit lightly as she groaned for more pressure.

"Killian..." she pleaded. 

She heard something, and as she was facing away from him, she imagined him covering his cock with her juices, coating himself with her. The image spurred her on and she thrust her hips back, feeling his erection rub against her ass as both his hands grabbed her hips.

He steadied her briefly, and she felt the head of his cock at her opening for a fleeting second before he penetrated her to the hilt, filling up the empty space inside her that ached for contact and heat and him. Only him. The slight burn, the stretch, the feeling of all ten of his fingers digging into her hips, holding her in place.

"Killian," she whispered. "Captain, _please_."

She clenched herself around him, feeling his entire member throb at the friction.

"Bloody hell, Emma."

He pulled out slowly, leaving only the head of his erection inside before driving himself back into her. Once, twice, three times... by the third time, his hands changed, his right arm coming under her hips to change the angle they came together. His body pressed against hers now, and his thrust went deep, straight to that spot that made her cry out in pleasure. His left hand slipped under her dress to her breasts, and she was infinitely grateful that she wasn't wearing a bra, as his still-moist fingers clamped down on her nipple.

Killian kept a steady rhythm, one hand holding her in place while the other played with her breasts and nipples. She wanted more, harder, faster, so she matched his thrusts stealing a shouting moan from his lips.

"Emma!" he cried when she met his thrust again.

His next thrust never came. Instead, he pulled out of her, and his left hand came back to her hip. She thrashed wildly, feeing like a feral animal caught in a vice. He pressed his body against hers, his length rubbing invitingly against her backside, as he leaned over her bent body, covering her.

He whispered, "Emma, love. You're always working so hard. You never just let me give you what you want."

His left hand wandered to her clit, lightly stroking it, rubbing up and down, slowly. She keened, arching her back, pushing her hips down, searching for more friction.

"Have I ever left you wanting?" he said softly into her ear. "Have I ever failed to make you come over and over again?"

"Killian, please, I can't - "

"Yes you can," he said, his voice harsh in her ear as his finger began to circle her clit and his arm held her in place. "You can give me control. You can let me show you that a man can give you everything you need, not just what you want. You can let me have you just like this, taking you bent over our bed, making you come hard and fast, then slow, then fast, over and over again."

His voice had started off demanding, as if he was ordering her around, but it changed as he spoke, faltering from commanding to beseeching. Her mind conjured images of his eyes peaking over the mound of her body to meet hers as his tongue buried itself in her folds and played with her clit, getting her off before his own pants were removed.

"Let me, Emma. Just let me show you," he said, his voice now completely suppliant and wrecked.

This man wasn't ordering her to lie there and take it. He was begging her to let him have his way with her. What could Killian have in store for her that they hadn't already done? Why did he seem so eager about it? Her breath hitched as she considered the possibilities. She wasn't sure how much time had passed between when he spoke and this moment. His crafty fingers kept jarring her train of thought with waves of pleasure, and his body pressed against her made her blood boil.

Killian must _love_ this: the moans he draws from her, the quivering thighs, the pleas for more, her entire body coming undone under him. She craved him, his touch, and whatever his desire was, she hungered for that, too.

"Yes," she said breathlessly, wishing she'd spoken earlier. "Yes, Killian."

His fingers stopped and his body weight left hers. Then his hands lifted her legs up off the floor, pulling her up and off the bed, so only her arms could reach it and her legs up in the air behind him. As the tip of his cock lined up with her, she braced herself against her forearms, and he plunged into her. She would've shouted his name, but she was too busy gasping for air.

His strokes came at a deliberate and delicious pace, and she kept her hips curled up to meet him as he drove himself in, careful not to thrust back, letting him do all the work. Her legs tensed as she wanted to wrap around his back to bring him closer, but his fingers grasped harshly at her thighs.

"Now, now, Swan," he growled, biting back his own moan. "You said you'd let me show you I could make you come just as hard without your assistance."

She forced herself to relax her legs, and he rewarded her immediately by picking up the pace. His left arm wrapped around her leg and let it drop slightly, changing the angle and drawing another scream from her lips even before his fingers found her clit.

Her orgasm hit her, hard and fast, and she shouted his name over and over again, his rhythm slow but sure as she rode it out. No sooner had some come down and caught her breath than he hastened his pace again, pushing her to climax again in under a minute.

Emma was gibbering nonsense now as she braced herself against the bed as best she could. Her body was oversensitive to touch, his fingers giving her clit a much-needed break, even though he was somehow still hard inside her, giving her slow, even strokes that began her climb back to the edge. 

She arched her back, enjoying the ripples of pleasure that throbbed through her, and his grip tightened on her. His measured strokes became a little unsteady as he moved faster and faster, and he switched hands, his right hand slipping between them, his dexterous fingers giving her slowest, lightest, and most incredible circles over her over-sensitized bundle. 

He was grunting heavily, so close to his own release that she had to fight herself not to thrust back or clench over him just to hear him shouted her name. In no time at all, she was right there with him, her body quivering on the edge, relaxed and ready. He screamed her name, his grip bruising her as they climaxed together. A string of curses and praises falling from her mouth, all ending with his name.

Killian sucked in a ragged breath as he slipped out of her and placed her legs back on the ground. Emma wondered if she could just stay like this for a while, content, tired, but so relaxed, her entire body radiating little throbs of pleasure.

But she wanted to see his face, that smug smile, those blue eyes, so she pushed herself up on the bed, allowing her sweat-soaked dress to drop around her, and rolled over to look at him. 

He was a handsome mess. His vest and shirt were still on, naked only from the waist down, his visible skin red as a sunrise, panting from the effort.

"That was exquisite," she said.

His eyes met hers, and she saw something there that she wasn't quite ready for. It wasn't just satiation or desire or smugness, though those were all there, too. There was something haunting and stunning and just a little bit sad.

When he didn't move to join her on the bed, she stood up and pulled him into her arms, slowly undressing him and tossing his finest cloths carelessly away before her dress joined it.

"You've been quiet tonight, captain," she said, her fingers exploring his face.

"Believe me, I wasn't," he said. Then he added, "And you're breathtaking. Do you know that?"

She kissed him, taking the time to drink in everything he had, even his sadness, feeling both his hands explore her nude body, chastely and curiously. When they broke apart, she saw how tired he was. He hadn't looked like that since he rode a horse nonstop to her castle.

"I hear even pirate captains need sleep," she said, bringing him back to the bed. 

"But my payment to you is far from complete."

"Tomorrow," she said. "And the day after, and the day after that... right now, sleep."

She brought his head to her chest, and he curled around her so softly as she covered him with a blanket. She stroked his hair until he drifted off to sleep and those last traces of sorrow finally faded away into peace.

* * *

Killian woke up with Emma all around him. It became the first of many happy mornings that began his slow decline into melancholy.

It wasn't that he wasn't happy with Emma. Far from it. He loved her, and every minute with her gave him a joy he had never before known in his life. But days and weeks passed in the same cycle. He and Emma would reverse a curse, or stop a monster, or free someone from a magic container, and she would become drunk on power, desperate with lust. They'd fall into bed together and have mind-blowing sex, with her voice screaming his name driving him over the edge every time. 

Then, afterward, she'd pulled him close, suddenly becoming tender and drinking him in. He'd see how deep her eyes went, how the passion inside her burned, and he'd search for any scrap of the love he once saw there.

He never found it, and after a few weeks, he began to wonder if he had simply imagined it to begin with. Yet every night the afterglow was longer. She would spend more time holding him, more time caressing him, more time fawning over him, cherishing him.

It didn't make sense, and it was slowly driving him mad.

She must've sensed something was wrong, because she began talking about returning to the Jolly Roger. He longed for the sea, to stand on the deck of his sailing ship.

But they still had many days of preparation ahead, and there were many tasks that Emma insisted she do alone for his safety. He couldn't tell if she was being honest or wanted time away from him during the day, but he put on his most confident face and agreed.

"Perhaps it would be best if I sent word to Queen Ariel and King Eric," he suggested. "At the very least, I should return the steed."

"If they see me like this, they'll... they'll know," she replied.

"Aye, but surely we could tell them it is but an elaborate disguise. You are traveling with a notorious pirate, love."

"Right," she said. "You'd be gone for two weeks."

"I hear absence makes the heart grow fonder, though I've never tested that particular aphorism," he replied. "Besides, I have the mirror you gave me that allows us to speak over long distances. And you could always teleport to my side, love."

She hesitated, apprehensive. 

"I told you, I'm a survivor," he said. "You've already said I cannot assist you with the remaining contents of the Dark Vault."

"That's true," she replied. "Ride safely, and check in with me, or I'll come looking."

He gave her his best smile, kissed her goodbye, and carried his traveling bag to the fine steed from the Maritime Kingdom.

* * *

Emma watched him ride off, her insides squirming as he disappeared over the protection barrier and again when he crossed the tree line. She wanted to ride off with him, but there were too many unsavory things that she had to pack up before they could be safely stored on the Jolly Roger.

She shook the feeling. The man was a centuries-old pirate captain who had survived a vendetta against the Dark One, for goodness's sake. He found his way to her when she disappeared, and he could handle a ride to the Maritime Kingdom.

Emma needed to distract herself, so she began her work in earnest, crafting chests and locked bins to contain dark magic.

As she worked, pangs of guilt distracted her. Memories of her darkest days spent playing with Hook - no, _Killian_ \- like he was some kind of sex toy. He never asked her to stop and never complained about it, but she hadn't done it to please him or to thrill him. She did it because there was nothing and no one to stop her.

She tried to apologize, to tell him he meant more to her than that, to thank him for saving her, from pulling her back from the brink. But every time she started, he told her not to worry about it, and the sincerity in his voice stopped her heart.

Emma doubled her efforts, forcing herself to focus on packing rather than thinking about the pirate. She'd see him again soon enough.

* * *

Killian regretted leaving Emma behind, but he enjoyed the ride through the open fields and forest paths. The fresh air did him good, relieving the tension in his body that had built up biting back the words he wanted to say to her.

He noticed the last of the daylight fading. If he kept riding for another hour, he could reach the next village for the night. 

His skin prickled, and his body went into high-alert. He didn't know why until an arrow landed just inches in front of his horse, causing the steed to rear, and rustling sounds echoed as a team of bandits surrounded him, cutting off his path.


	2. Helm of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma goes on a rescue mission to find Killian and winds up facing an old foe.

Dusk came and went, yet Killian hadn't used the mirror yet.

Emma paced the length of the great hall, her mind thrashing between thoughts of 'shouldn't have let him go' and 'probably just got delayed.' The worry became insufferable, and wrath began to build up in her chest.

She exhaled, calming herself. She took out her own mirror and gazed into it, but all she saw was the blackness of the pouch Killian kept it in. She focused harder, straining for anything, and while no images appeared, sounds came through, including voices she didn't recognize.

"Oy! Don't drop him!"

"I told you we should just put him across the horse!"

"Ransom does no good if the goods are damaged!"

Did someone steal his traveling pack? Or his horse? Or both? Did people find him in the road, injured? Or did some fools kidnap him? 

Whatever happened to Killian, it wasn't good.

She struggled to maintain her composure. Slaughtering whoever was responsible for this would have to wait until she knew her pirate was safe and unhurt. If she went in hard and fast, they might kill him.

_And there's no way to know if they were helping him or hurting him yet._

The thought burst into her mind, sounding very much like Henry. It made her mouth go dry and her knees feel weak. Had she really just been planning on killing people because she was angry?

Emma took out a small round cap that she had set aside earlier. It was made out of simple linen and wool and it was a deep, dark, impossible black. It fit over the crown of her head perfectly, even though it was far too big when she held it. 

The Helm of Darkness made the wearer invisible, and should anyone else look at it, the hat appeared in varying forms: a warrior's helmet, a crown, and so on. She could retrace Killian's steps and assess the situation without anyone being the wiser.

"I will find you, Killian," she whispered. "I will always find you."

* * *

It took Emma no time at all to find where Killian had been ambushed. She could tell that's what it was by the various prints on the ground: hoof prints abruptly overlapping, dozens of boot prints surrounding the chaos, and two arrows. 

One arrow had struck the ground. Someone had come along and retrieved it, but a part of the arrowhead had broken off, making the sloppy attempts to cover it up a wasted effort. 

The other arrow took longer to find, but she sensed it. It was embedded near the base of a tree several paces off the path, concealed well enough that whoever fired it couldn't find it.

Emma yanked it out, and her heart skipped several beats.

It had Killian's blood on it.

That's why she was drawn to it. She knew his scent, his blood. He'd been hit.

She calmed herself. Arrows didn't tear through bodies and embed themselves in trees. That meant that Killian had only been grazed. She pocketed it and focused on him again. If this was where he was taken hours ago, they couldn't have gotten far.

* * *

In fact, they had gotten far. Quite far for people on foot.

Emma searched all night and couldn't find them. More than once, she got caught up in circles, and she began to consider throwing caution to the wind and using magic to teleport herself straight to Killian.

Normally, that wouldn't be a problem. She'd simply focus on him and appear next to him, regardless of his location. But it was entirely possible that this group of people abducted him to lure her into a trap, which could be especially bad if they knew she was the Dark One.

Much like her path, her thoughts kept circling over the same points. Teleporting to him would be faster and easier but could prevent her from saving him. Tracking him through the woods would be safer but slower, and time wasn't on her side. He'd already been with them all night.

It was dawn before she found it: a hidden camp in the forest. Whoever lived here had set up roosts in the trees, small dwellings that, to the naked eye, seemed like nothing more than an overgrowth in the tree canopies. No doubt she had already passed by a number of sentry posts that were up high, out of sight. She had been too focused on tracking her pirate.

Luckily, the Helm of Darkness made her invisible.

She moved quietly, careful not to disturb twigs or leafs, for the inhabitants of this camp were rising. Several had gathered around a large fire to cook breakfast.

Killian must be here somewhere.

A beautiful woman with the most peculiar energy about her descended from a roost nearby, and Emma stilled. She knew, somehow, that this woman had elevated senses. 

Curious, Emma studied her face. She was about Snow's age, no doubt, though time had treated her well. She had fair skin, but not too fair, dark hair, and green eyes. As she passed by, she moved gracefully and with purpose. The woman suddenly became alert, as if she detected Emma's eyes on her somehow. Her eyes searched every direction around her, unblinking. Then, just as abruptly, the woman smiled, and walked off with a reassured spring in her step. What was it about her? Did she have magic, too?

A horn sounded, and the entire camp exploded with activity. Emma teleported to a wide, empty branch to keep clear of all the people who were running this way and that. In less than two minutes, every person was armed and in position, even the smallest children. Most carried bows with axes or scythes on their belts.

Where was Killian? 

The woman Emma saw earlier caught her eye again as she patrolled with a man dressed in a green hood. She couldn't see his features beyond the scruff of his beard, but the way everyone reacted to him and the woman indicated that they were in charge.

Minutes passed slowly, and she began to wonder if Killian had someone set off an alarm while making his escape.

"We know you're there!" the man in the green hood shouted to the woods at-large. "My friend here has a bit of wolf in her, as they say, so there's no hiding from her! I assure you, so long as you mean us no harm, we mean you no harm! Show yourself!"

Emma waved her hand and sent the wolf crashing into several armed men. Then, in one elegant move, she removed the Helm of Darkness, tucking it away, and teleported behind the green-hooded man, materializing a knife in her hand as she pressed it to his throat.

Dozens of bows swung in her direction, and the wolf-woman snarled as she regained her footing.

"You kidnapped a man," she said. "He was hit with one of your arrows. His blood was on it. You've already done me harm. Now where is he?"

"Please, you don't understand - "

"I don't care to," she interrupted. "If you want to live, you will give him back to me, and so help me, if you've killed him, I'll slaughter every living thing in a mile radius of this pathetic camp!"

The words tumbled out of her mouth before she thought them through, but as soon as she said them she knew that she meant it. Killian was her anchor to sanity, to reality. He gave her hope (and love) and kindness and reminded her of who she was, and if this atrocious band of bandits had killed him, then this whole forest would be laid to waste by her grief. She wasn't sure if she wanted that or not, but she was certain it would happen.

"The man you speak of, he is important to you?" the man asked.

"He is the most important person in my life," she said, trying and failing to keep the desperation out of her voice. "What have you done to him?"

She dug the knife in just enough to pierce the skin and draw blood, and the man grimaced in pain.

"Emma, stop!"

Her eyes darted up to see Killian approach her with his hands tied in front of him. He had a cut on his cheek and his hair was a mess, but other than that he seemed fine.

"Killian?"

"I'm fine. They've not hurt me," he said. "And, love, they need our help."

"Why should we help them?" she asked, not bothering to hide her contempt.

"That man you have there? His name is Robin Hood," Killian explained. "His men ambushed me on the road because over the past three nights, children have been disappearing from this very camp. Can you blame them for assuming that a man riding from the Dark Castle might be responsible?"

"Is this true?" she asked the hooded man, turning him around so he could face her.

"I fear it is," the man said. "As he said, my name is Robin. That small boy over there with the slingshot is my son, Roland. He is one of the few that has been spared from whatever horror has been stealing our children. We thought perhaps the Dark One had done it."

"I explained that he couldn't of," Killian said. "I was trying to convince them to let me call you for help when the alarm went off."

"Untie him," she ordered.

"Very well," Robin replied, waving his hand at two men who quickly cut the rope from Killian's wrists. "May I ask your name?"

"Emma Swan."

"Emma Swan?" the wolf-woman asked. "The Savior of the Realm?"

"Aye, the very same," Killian said, joining Emma.

He put his hand over hers, and she lowered her long knife. Fury boiled inside of her, but she bit it back.

"You look... different," the wolf-woman continued. "I haven't seen you since you were this big."

She held a hand to indicate a short height.

"You speak as if you know me," Emma said. "Who are you?"

"My name is Red," she replied. "I was close with your mother. I used to live at the palace until I decided to find more of my kin. You were maybe eight years old."

Auntie Red. She always wore a red cloak. The memories flooded back to her as if it was yesterday.

"I'm traveling in disguise," she said, using the same cover story she and Killian planned to use with Ariel and Eric. "But that's none of your concern, and there's no time for niceties. Tell me what has happened to your children."

* * *

As it transpired, Killian had been quite right. These Merry Men of Sherwood Forest desperately required her assistance.

There were over six dozen people in the camp, including a handful of werewolves and several warriors and travelers from other lands. Robin Hood was the leader, a woman named Mulan was his right hand, and a dodgy man named Will Scarlet hung around Red as if they were part of the order, too, though no one explicitly said so.

If what they said was true, then every night, including last night, children vanished from their homes. The second day, when they put all the children under guard, many of them still disappeared, and the guards in question had fallen into a deep and quite unnatural slumber. There was no explanation, no known enemy, and no sign that they had been taken against their will. No bodies were discovered.

"I've heard of this before," Emma said when they finished their tale.

"You... you have?" Robin asked.

"A long time ago, a man used a magical instrument that played a tune to draw away children. He was called the Pied Piper. The Dark One, whose own child was snatched away by this music, went after this man to save his son."

"Did he succeed?" Red asked, her eyes fiery with expectation.

"He did," she replied. "But he only bothered saving his own child. He left the others."

"So... they're not dead?" Red asked. "They're alive."

"Yes," Emma replied. "And the piper has changed his tune, literally. Your guards were all adults. This new musical instrument puts them into a deep sleep while enchanting the children."

"Why would anyone do that?" Robin asked. "What could someone have to gain from stealing somebody else's children?"

"A family," she replied. "This man is not a man. He's a boy. Or, rather, he looks like one."

"Peter Pan?" Killian hissed.

"Yes," she replied dispassionately. "The only way to protect your children is to destroy the instrument."

"What about the children we've already lost?" Mulan asked. "Can we get them back?"

Emma nodded. "Yes, but as long as Pan has the instrument, he has the power to lead them all away again. And if you do destroy it, Pan will likely retaliate."

"Then we kill him," Mulan said. "Man or boy, someone who steals children shouldn't be left alive."

"But how?" Robin asked. "Surely you can find them, Emma."

"In fact, I can't," she replied. "The only way to find them is to follow a child enchanted by the music."

"But the music will make us fall asleep," Robin protested.

She held out her hand, and ten tiny buds of garlic appeared there, glowing with silver-white mist.

"Not if you cannot hear it," she said stiffly. "Put these in your ears, and you won't hear a thing. I've also blessed them to stay in place until you remove them, so they can't be knocked out. But be warned, once you hear the music, even just one note, you will fall asleep."

Robin took the buds. "Thank you, Emma."

"Shouldn't I have a pair, Swan?" Killian asked. "I'm not much use asleep."

"While the Merry Men are stealing the Enchanted Pipe and destroying it, you and I will be rescuing the stolen children," she said to him.

"But you have magic," Mulan said. "If we want to defeat Pan and kill him, you are our best bet."

She bit back a snarl and took a long, deep breath before she replied. "You told me you wanted your children back and safe. Defeating Pan is not part of the plan. Steal the Pipe and destroy it. That will be ample distraction for Killian and I to rescue the children."

Mulan began to protest, but Robin stopped her.

"Thank you, Emma, for helping us," he said. "How can we ever repay you?"

"It's unlikely you were the first place Pan played for," she replied. "There may be many others from other kingdoms. They'll need assistance finding their way home."

"Of course," Robin said as he held out his hand.

They shook on it.

"Hang on a minute," Will said. "This one here put a knife to yer throat this mornin'. Why should we trust her?"

"She's the only one that can help you, mate," Killian replied.

* * *

They ate dinner before the sun went down, and the Merry Men chose five of their best warriors to fight Pan: Robin, Mulan, Red, Little John, and Friar Tuck. Emma enchanted one of the roosts so it muffled all sound, and every child crammed inside, save for a young boy named Roland, Robin's son, who refused to let anyone else led the way.

She had tried to get Killian alone all day, but there hadn't been any time until after dinner. They sat together with the five deaf warriors, waiting for the blackness of night.

"Are you all right?" Killian asked, wrapping his arm around her.

"Yeah. Yes, I am," she replied. "I was angry before, but now... I get it."

"You could fight Pan," he said. "Between the two of us, we may even be able to kill him."

"I know."

"You must want to," he continued. "He was the one responsible for killing Bae - Neal."

She nodded.

"Emma, please, tell me what's going on."

She replied, "I want him to die in agony, burning and rotting and crawling. I want to hear him scream for mercy, beg for death, cry out for help. Even if I can't kill him, I want to do all those things. And that's why I can't... it... it frightens me."

"Because before, you wanted the Crocodile gone, but you couldn't imagine yourself killing him," he said, his fingers intertwining with his. "Emma, you're human - "

"Am I?" she asked.

"Aye, love, you certainly are," he continued. "These deep, dark, twisted desires of yours? They're human. I can tell because even though you want them, you've chosen to save the innocent over punishing the guilty. That's also a very human thing."

He kissed her cheek, and she turned and pulled him into a real kiss, her heart heavy with bitterness and revenge and desperate for the relief of affection, of hope.

"Oy, knock that off," Will said as he approached them. "Roland's gone all bleary-eyed, so best if you..."

Before he could finish, Will collapsed to the ground.

"Emma, I... what's happening?" Killian asked.

"Shhh," Emma replied, gently lowering him to the ground. "Don't fight it. Just fall asleep."

"But, what about - "

"Shhhh."

It only took a few seconds before her pirate slumbered on peacefully. She kissed him on the forehead before following Roland away from the camp.

* * *

Roland led them to a fallen tree that had been hollowed out. He crawled inside and disappeared.

The Merry Men panicked. Of them, only Mulan and Red could possibly crawl inside, and not being able to speak to one another made everything very difficult.

Emma snapped her fingers, and the tree doubled in size, which made it more than large enough. All eyes fell on her in surprise, so she waved her hands as if to say, 'I didn't make this portal bigger for you to stare at me. Go on through it.' Well, at least the last bit.

Robin nodded and led the way, and Emma went last, donning the Helm of Darkness. She stepped through the portal and, just as she suspected, wound up in Neverland, where Roland was being held in some kind of pen. His expression was wide-eyed and absent, which made it clear that he was still under the spell of the song.

Taking him now would draw too much attention, so Emma decided to come back for him after she found the others. She expected it to more difficult, but the Lost Boys hadn't bothered to conceal their latest recruits, all of whom were grouped together and held in pens just like Roland's not far from the portal.

Unlike Roland, these other children were plainly captives. They were all miserable and frightened, some curled up on the ground, hiding their faces. Each one seemed broken and defeated. She counted over thirty, all below the age of fourteen.

She shook her head. Her plan had been to free them and lead them back to the portal, but there were Lost Boys between here and there. And these kids had either lost hope or were too afraid to make a break for it.

Luckily, she had prepared for just such an occasion.

Emma took out a small Tin of Hard Candies from which she and Killian had freed an entire herd of unicorn. It was created to preserve living creatures until they could be restored to the world, and the Dark One stole it from the enchantress who made it. 

Why the Dark One would be so bent on containing unicorns was anybody's guess.

The Tin was the only thing she had that could safely contain multiple people, and though its creator likely filled it with meadows and forests for the unicorns to frolic, Emma supposed girls and boys could manage for a few hours at least.

She placed the Tin at the Center of the pens and cast the spell to draw everyone inside.

Her work didn't go unnoticed, however, and a number of Lost Boys raced in, spears at the ready, shouting about magic. It was no matter. Those that got too close disappeared into the Tin of Hard Candies, and those that saw what happened to those who got too close turned away and ran.

Emma tapped the Helm of Darkness in thanks. Invisibility was a beautiful thing.

She wasted no time returning to the portal and found a furious battle between Pan and the Merry Men. Friar Tuck and Little John were both wounded.

Emma's heart skipped a beat when she saw that Roland wasn't alone. A boy and a girl had joined him, and Mulan, Red, and Robin were all fighting madly, side-by-side, to get to them.

Peter Pan taunted them, either unaware or indifferent to the fact that they couldn't hear him. Emma's rage exploded to the surface, making the ground quake. 

Pan flew into the air, laughing.

"Is there a wizard here?" he asked.

The Enchanted Pipe hung from a long necklace, and she focused on it, channeling her hatred and wrath, desperately clinging to herself.

_"...you've chosen to save the innocent over punishing the guilty. That's also a very human thing."_

Killian's words brought her back to herself. The earth stopped shaking, and she was able to draw the pipe away from Pan. It didn't get far before a magical tug-of-war ensued, and he being the closer man was likely to win. So she changed tactics, conjuring destruction and fire that consumed the instrument in one glorious eruption of blue and green sparks that sent Pan flying far, far away from them.

"What's happening? Papa?" Roland asked as his father lifted him up. 

"Mama? Mommy?" the two others mewed.

"Anna, Lucas," Red said. "It's all right, babies. See? Mommy and I are here."

Red and Mulan embraced them.

Emma took off the Helm of Darkness, startling Friar Tuck and Little John.

"Relax, it's me," she said.

She raised both her hands, levitating the injured men and sending them through the portal. 

"We should go," she said to the others.

"Indeed you should."

She looked up and saw Peter Pan, charred but unfortunately still alive.

"Not sure who you are, but you've just made a very big mistake!"

With a flick of his hand, Emma was catapulted back through the portal, crashing into a tree on the other side. Her entire body shook with the impact as the trunk snapped clean in half.

"You all right, Emma?" Friar Tuck asked with trepidation. He apparently had removed his ear buds.

"Robin and the others..." she replied.

She didn't bother completing her thought. She got to her feet, jammed the Helm back on her head, and threw herself through the portal. It was a stupid idea built upon the hope that Pan mistook her for a common wizard, for the spell he hit her with would've killed anyone, save for the Dark One.

She landed on the other side just in time to see Pan cast Roland and the two other children into a portal. Mulan thrust her sword through him, but he laughed. Grabbing her by the throat, he yanked the sword out like it were nothing.

Emma ran to help, but before she could do anything, Mulan punched Pan square in the noise, eliciting a sharp yelp and a curse as he dropped her blade. She reclaimed her weapon and then dove through the shrinking portal.

Robin and Red were bleeding on the ground, and Pan glowered at them. She summoned her anger and cupped her hand. Before, as the Savior, this created fireballs or water balls and on rare occasion, popcorn balls, though she had no idea why. But this time, she conjured a long branch of light.

She threw it, and it was as if lightning had struck Pan. He screamed as his body was thrown back. She ran to Robin and Red and teleported them away, awkwardly tumbling through it before she pinched it shut on the other side.

"What the blazes happened?" Friar Tuck asked.

* * *

The remainder of the time Emma spent with the Merry Men camp was somber. She healed Little John, Friar Tuck, Red, and Robin, but she had no idea where Pan had sent their children. The only comfort she could offer was that Mulan was no doubt with them.

She restored the children from the Tin of Hard Candies, many of whom, as she predicted, came from other kingdoms. She had also ensnared a number of Lost Boys, though Robin assured her they would be taken care of until they were returned to Neverland, should they so desire.

"I'm sorry about your son," Emma said.

"I hate to ask any more of you," Robin said. "But, is there any way you can find him?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. He could be anywhere. In any realm."

"Fairies," Killian said, still quite sleepy from the Enchanted Pipe. "If you can find a fairy, they could help you."

"I think I know of one," Red said. "Robin, listen to me. We are going to find my wife and my twins and Roland. And we are going to bring them home safe."

"Best of luck to you," Emma said.

"Wait, Emma," Red said. "I... thank you. Isn't there anything else we can do for you?"

"Any chance you know how to get to a Land without Magic?" Killian asked offhandedly. 

"No, afraid not," Robin replied.

"Well, sure ya don't," Will said. "Let's face it, this bloke here doesn't do much travelin' outside these woods these days, now does he? A man like meself, on the other hand, might know a thing or two about it."

"About what, mate?" Killian asked.

"Right, well, these are just rumors, mind," Will said. "So don't go blamin' me if they don't pan out."

"Yes, yes, we'll be sure not to file a complaint should be find ourselves disappointed," Killian said. "Spit it out."

"Oh, someone's a bit testy, eh?" Will said. "Rumor has it that there's a Magic Compass that kin git ya anywhere ya want to go, even to places that don't exist. Not sure how that bit works, but if ya have it, all ya gotta do is think of where ya wanna be, and it'll guide ya straight to it."

"Give it to me," Emma said. When she realized what she said, she added, "Please, we need it."

Will replied, "Well I don't have it, do I? Last I heard of it was it was stolen by some big git and taken up a beanstalk or something like that."

"Don't waste our time with nonsense," Killian said.

"He's not," Emma said. "Thank you, Will Scarlet."

She took Killian's hand and led him to his steed. He asked her several questions, but she couldn't hear him because she was absorbed in thought.

Visiting the Land of the Giants was dangerous, but if there was a Magic Compass that could lead her to her son, she had to find a way.


	3. Fee Fi Foe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian attempts to let Emma off the hook when they're received as honored guests of the Maritime Kingdom.

Killian had half a mind to complain, but as soon as Emma got on behind him in the saddle and wrapped her arms around him, he forgot it all. She rode with him until he stopped for the night, but he woke up the next morning alone, no doubt because she returned to the Dark Castle after he fell asleep.

He did as he promised, checking in with her via the mirror before he left each morning and again every night. He put on his best face and was sure to tell her about the landscape and the people he met, if any, but the truth was, he was miserable.

It took him another two weeks to reach the edge of the Maritime Kingdom, and he was glad for the solitude the trek afforded him, though insomnia plagued him. More than once, he found himself outside in the dead of night, looking up at a sky full of stars.

He was lonely and sad, but he wasn't sure he was strong enough to stay with Emma, to see it through, knowing that she may never feel for him as he did for her.

_"He is the most important person in my life."_

She had said that about him, and he supposed it was true for the moment. Once Henry was back in her life, he'd certainly usurp that position. That didn't bother Killian as much as the fact that he had no idea who or what he was to her. What would happen when she reunited with her family? Would he become some random man who assisted her through a dark period of her life? A loyal servant that followed her around?

In the end, it didn't matter. He could no more leave her than cut off his own hand again.

Emma joined him on the last leg of the journey, sneaking into his bed for the night and waking him with slow lazy kisses.

"Now, now, there's no time for that, love," he said, pushing her away despite every fiber of his being telling him to draw her closer. "We've got half a day's ride to the Maritime Court, so if we want my ship back for our travels, best make an early start of it."

She made a sad little noise and said, "But I've missed you."

"And I you," he replied. "Which is why I have quite the reunion planned for us on the Jolly Roger tonight."

She smiled and got ready without any further complaint. She put on a long, hooded coat as part of her "disguised and traveling with a nefarious pirate" story.

"Anything in particular you plan on telling them about this?" he asked as he wiggled the fingers of his left hand.

"Stole it back from the Dark Castle," she replied.

"And you just popped it back on?" he asked.

"Of course I did," she replied. "Killian, are you all right?"

"I'm grand, love. I'm grand."

The rest of the day went off without a hitch. Ariel and Eric had been expecting them for the past three days, and they welcomed them with a private (but spectacular) feast and pressed them to spend the night at the castle. They were put in separate rooms and opposite wings but that hardly stopped Swan from visiting him.

"I know you had plans for the Jolly Roger tonight," she said, her fingers trailing the hair on his chest. "But I couldn't stay away."

"Not tonight," he said.

"Killian, what's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing, just tired."

"I know you made me a promise," she said. "But if you're having second thoughts... if you don't want to do this with me, I'd understand."

His stomach dropped.

"No need to let me down easy, love," he said. "If you want rid of me, you need only say it. Anything you ask of me, I shall do it."

* * *

Emma was very confused. She thought his desire to ride to another kingdom when she could teleport them in a heartbeat had been an escape. An excuse to force her to live on her own for a few days, to show her that she could survive being the Dark One without him.

That experiment failed. She couldn't be Emma Swan and the Dark One without Killian to keep her heart in the right place. She tried, but if this last week had done anything, it proved to her more than ever that she needed an anchor. She needed Killian.

"I never want to be rid of you," she said quietly.

He turned to her, his face a curious mix of fury and confusion.

"Are you certain? You had no need of me for the past two weeks," he said.

"That's not true."

"You didn't request my company once the entire time," he replied. "Perhaps you've not admitted it to yourself, but you've no real need for me, Swan. You have a mission, all the power you need, and friends enough to assist you. I'm just a pirate captain with a fine ship and no crew. I'm sure you can request something more sufficient from King Eric."

"It's not your ship I need," she said.

"Isn't it?"

"You are the only thing keeping me together. You are the reason I've gotten this far," she said as she came close to him, her hands coming to either side of his face.

"Aye, love, and you've made me a whole man again, and I'm not strictly speaking of my hand," he said quietly, his hands covering hers. "But you wouldn't be the first person to leave me behind when I no longer had any use. I'm a grown man, Swan, and there's no reason to keep me if I no longer fulfill any real need."

He pulled her hands down and held them gently.

"Killian, I - "

"Let me finish," he interrupted. "You've freed me from so many demons. I owe you everything, but you owe me nothing, Swan. Not your time nor your affections nor your pity. I've my ship, I can start again, and you need not worry."

She felt like he was crushing her heart in a vice. The burn of tears caused her to bite back her words so her voice wouldn't crack. She swallowed, hoping her lip wasn't quivering at the effort of suppressing the sobs that threatened to burst out of her.

The look on his face was calm, composed, quiet. He was neither challenging her nor happy about what he said. If anything, he was resigned to this, as if he expected her to toss him aside like a used rag.

"I need you," she said. It was all she could think to say. "Killian. I need you. I can't let you go."

* * *

Killian was furious. After their conversation about killing Peter Pan, he understood why she didn't opt to fighting the little demon herself. But she said they'd rescue the children.

They. _They._ Not her, they.

When it came down to it, what did she do? She let him drift off to dreamland and went on her own. And then she left him to his own devices for the next two weeks with little more than a few minutes of conversation, all the while corralling cursed objects or reversing dark magic on her own. 

And now? Now she said she couldn't let him go.

He was ready to scream at her, loose his anger and no doubt receive retribution by some kind of dark magic. 

He resisted. They were in a foreign castle as guests, and if Emma was to keep her new mantle as the Dark One secret, it was best for her not to use dark magic on her servant. Because that was, after all, what he was to her. At worst her servant, at best her ally.

"Killian, please, say something," she said. "I can't do this - any of this - without you."

"Can't you?" he asked. "You've not needed assistance from me since before I began my travels. Not with saving people or reversing curses, certainly, and hardly with talking or company of any kind if these last two weeks were any indication. Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're wrong," she said loudly. "These last two weeks have been torture!"

"Have they? And how was I to know that?" he shouted. "Am I expected to read your mind, know your thoughts? Because I don't have magic, Emma, I can't do that!"

"I never said you did!" she said, her voice rising with each word. "You offered to ride here, said time apart would be good for us, for me!"

"Aye, and then I said, if you had need of me for anything, you need only use the bloody mirror!"

"What was I supposed to do, Killian?" she said, no longer shouting. "Use the mirror to tell you that I was holding on to myself by the breadth of a hair? Tell you that I was barely getting through my day? Tell you that I have been falling apart without you?"

"Aye," he said, his voice now a growl. "If any of that were true, that's what you should have done! You don't need me, Swan. You didn't need me these past few weeks, and you certainly didn't require my assistance against Pan!"

"I'd nearly lost you earlier that day, I wasn't about to put you in more danger!"

"I'm a pirate!" he yelled. "I captain the finest ship in all the realms. My life is nothing but danger!" 

"That's different, and you know it!" she spat back. "This wasn't a danger that might happen, Killian. Pan is very old and clever and possibly immortal - "

He interrupted, "And where was I when the demon child from Neverland was tossing you through a portal? Asleep. Asleep because if I was awake, I'd've gone with you and been just one more person you'd have to save. I've gone from being an honorable pirate with a vendetta against the most dangerous creature in all the realms to some pet that the Savior keeps for pity!"

"How could you possibly think that?"

"How could you leave me behind while you run off into danger?" he asked. "You might be immortal and nearly unkillable, but you are hardly invincible. You said it yourself, Swan, Pan is clever and ancient. I know better than most what that beast is capable of, but you never bothered to ask me about his weaknesses or capabilities. You left me behind like some child who needs protecting! And now you're dragging me along with you so that I can, what exactly? Mind the ship while you go off and deal with giants? If you won't be honest with yourself, then at least be honest with me. When did you stop trusting me?"

She was suddenly right on top of him, pinning him to the wall, studying every line on his face with ferocious, angry eyes. Or were they sad? He couldn't tell.

"You think that's what this is about? That I don't trust you? Of course I trust you!"

"Then why? Why do you keep me at arm's length?"

"Because everyone I've ever been with is dead," she replied, letting him go, backing away, turning from him.

The distance between them increased rapidly as she spoke quickly, the words leaving her without thought to their conception or impact.

"Walsh," she said. "He was a werewolf, and when his pack was wiped out by hunters, Red took him in. I was seven. He was eight... we got along right away, and, he was my first love. A few months later, I was kidnapped by King George, my father's... well, it doesn't matter who King George was. He came after me to punish my father, except he came during Wolf's Time. Walsh killed George and his men but was mortally wounded. He was eight, and he died to save me."

Emma was across the room, and Killian hadn't moved to follow her. Yet her words captivated him. 

She continued, "When I was fourteen there was a stable boy named Graham. My mother told me his brother saved her life once and had been Regina's prisoner ever since. She tried to save him but failed, and he begged her to do two things: protect the wolves and save his brother, who was little more than an child at the time. He taught me riding and how to shoot from horseback. During a lesson, a freak storm came down on us. The horses ran off, and we had to hide in this tiny cave until the worst of it passed. It was days with nothing more but a few scraps of bread we'd taken with us and two bottles of water, but I was never afraid. We had a year together. I was trying to figure out how to tell my parents about him when he took me on a hunting trip. It was something we'd done a hundred times before. It was nothing. Graham was the very best. He'd never cross between a mother bear and cubs, not unless... I must've distracted him, because before I knew it that bear attacked, felled one of the horses immediately and threw me into a tree. Next thing I know, I wake up in the palace. Graham tied me across the saddle of his horse and sent me away. He didn't have a chance against a bear that close with his bow and hunting knife. He could've climbed on with me, but... he stayed to hold it off while I escaped."

* * *

At some point, Killian began to walk toward her, because he was by the bed now instead of across the room. She noticed it, vaguely, but she couldn't think too hard on it. She pushed herself to continue her explanation.

"And then Neal... and that stupid seer's prophecy... I thought if nobody knew, if it was all secret, I'd somehow get my happy ending," she said. "Neal was the son of the Dark One, probably the safest human being in all the realms. But it doesn't matter, Killian. It doesn't matter if the man I love is a werewolf or a hunter or protected by the most powerful wizard. They all die, Killian, they all die. Everyone I've ever been with is dead, except you, and - "

"Shhhh," he interrupted as he pulled her into his arms. His hand touched her face, adjusting her chin so she'd look in his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, Emma. I'm a survivor, love, remember? I can face the likes of the Crocodile and Pan and a giant and whatever else is ahead. And I won't need to rush to save you on my own, nor will I send you home alone and remain behind to fend off whatever fiend attacked us. Because whatever it is, love, we'll face it together. And you'd never let such a dashing pirate die on your watch, now will you, Swan?"

Tears. Somehow, she had starting crying, and his fingers gently pushed them away. His last words were accompanied by a wry upturn in his lips, a poor attempt to inject his normal swagger and charm into a far too emotional conversation.

"Neal said the same thing," she choked out.

"Aye, fear not," he replied. "For should I ever fall into a portal, rest assured my thoughts will be of you, Swan. Never a chance to land anywhere but at your side."

It was a foolish notion, of course. They both knew that most portals didn't work like that at all, and she knew that his promises were impossible to keep. He couldn't be sure he'd survive the next day with her, let alone traveling to another realm. And once they were there, she'd no longer have magic, and what little comfort and safety her powers afforded her would be gone. 

She kissed him, hard and fast, with tears leaking from her eyes, and his entire body wrapped around her, soothing her aches and pains and worry.

Anything could happen, and his empty promises didn't change that. But for the next few hours, he worked diligently to make her forget.

Perhaps forgetting her fears was all she could hope for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fear not! For Her Dark Works continues with Episode #8 "[Slush Fund](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5392871/chapters/12457256)."


End file.
